Just Drabbling Along
by cecelle
Summary: Drabble Number 9: Terra Incognita. 100 word drabble. Response to the GrangerSnape100 "9 Circles of Hell" challenge. This is a collection of drabbles, some silly, some serious.
1. Do Over

This is a collection of drabbles - some silly, some serious, most written for different drabble challenges. If you are looking for the particular drabble currently appearing in the summary, just fast forward to the last chapter!

Drabble 1:

Title: Do-Over  
Challenge: Fantasies - what does Snape fantasize about?

* * *

_Rodolphus helps him up after Sirius and James have left. "Blood traitors," he murmurs, scowling. "I know someone who'll take care of Muggle-loving scum like that. I could introduce you…"_

_"Thanks for the offer, but I think not," Severus says lightly._

_He picks up the book he has dropped, and walks over to where Lily Evans is watching, sympathy in her eyes. "Say – I saw you had problems with the Skele-Gro instructions, too – want to go over them together…?"_

He opens his eyes and sighs. If he had that moment in time over, that's how it _would_ have gone.

* * *

This was written for the Snape100 community on LJ.


	2. Bedtime

Word Count: 100

Title: Bedtime

Challenge: Snape's Secret Indulgence, for Snape100

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He smiles as he closes the door to his bedroom.

With his usual precise movements, he takes off his robe, places it (neatly folded) on the chair, and pulls on his nightshirt before slipping into bed. She is waiting for him, always glad to see him. About whom else could he say that?

He loves the way she responds to his touch, the gentle noises she makes as his hand carefully strokes the soft, pink curve of her body.

He closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, the soothing hum of Rosie, his Pygmy Puff, still in his ear.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

My excuse is that this was written late at night, after a concert and two "Sex on the Beach"es (who names cocktails, anyway?)…so don't blame me, blame the peach schnapps.


	3. Penance

Just 'nuther drabble, written for Snape100 on Livejournal  
Challenge: Snape's familiar (Is it a snake? A raven? Or what?)  
Rating: PG  
Warning: Character death (not Snape ;-)  
Word count: 100

.-.-.-.

**Penance**

Oh sweet Merlin, not again…  
The blasted tank was empty. For the third time this week.

_He had taken the curse meant for Potter. As he lay bleeding, paralyzed, he didn't think anyone had noticed. Two people had. Bellatrix, insane with fury, lifted her wand. At the same moment Neville stepped in front of him – Him! His boggart! – taking the curse in his stead. The toad had hopped into his pocket as soon as Neville's crumpled body had come to rest across his chest._

Sighing, he dropped on hands and knees. A good position for penance.

"Trevor! Where are you?"

* * *

A/N: On a non-drabble related note, with all the recent malfunctions on this site, if you have me on author notification and didn't get an update message -- I have finally managed to post a new _Mist and Vapor_ chapter. Whew. ;-) 


	4. Storm

Title: Storm

Written for the Snape 100 community on Livejournal.

This can perfectly well be read in its own, but it is meant as a companion to the second one-shot in "Flying Lessons" (see my profile page if you are interested.)

100 words according to MS Word.

* * *

He walks out to the lakeshore at dusk, looking up at the sky swirling gray on gray. Closing his eyes, he stands still, the winter storm whipping his hair around his face, and then he is rising, climbing, soaring, leaving behind Hogwarts and the Carrows and Minerva's reproachful face for just a few minutes.

Flying. The one good thing the Dark Lord has ever taught him.

The force of the gale picks him up, spins him, twirls him in a dizzying ride, and he laughs out loud. For just this moment, there is joy. For just this moment, he's alive.


	5. The Wait

He paced the floor as the minutes ticked by slowly. Labor had started more than eight hours ago – wasn't it about time? Restlessly, he walked over to the sideboard and poured himself a whisky, downing it in one swallow.

Waiting. How he hated it.

Then – a thin, mewling cry coming from the other side as the door finally opened. Hermione stood in the doorway, looking exhausted but jubilant.

"You were right. Eight kittens. And they're beauties." She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she cast a satisfied look back into the room behind her. "They should easily sell for 100 Galleons each." She gave him a beguiling smile. "You know what that means."

He did. It meant he could finally get the 40 inch, flat-screen, high resolution Creevey-Vision set he had been coveting for months. Just in time for the Quidditch Cup play-offs.

And Snape smiled.

* * *

150 word (according to MS Word) drabble, written as a birthday present for Shiv5468. She requested something with a happy Snape. I am afraid a rather silly plotbunny bit. The Creevey-Vision was borrowed from Bellegeste.


	6. Breakfast in Bed

"Breakfast in bed! You're amazing." She sat up, rubbing her eyes, her hair a disheveled mess, and he felt himself melt as he set the carefully assembled breakfast tray – toast with apricot jam, grapefruit, strong coffee, and a boiled egg – down on her lap.

Smiling up at him, Hermione slit open the envelope propped up against the small vase with the single red rose. "Really, you shouldn't have…"

And then her eyes turned glacial.

"_What_ is the date today?"

"The twenty-third."

"Our anniversary, Severus Snape," she said icily, "is on August twenty-eighth. As it has been for almost ten years."

.-.-.

"I can't believe this!" Hermione threw the card down on the tray. "Ten years, and you can't remember the date! You would think that after a decade of so-called wedded bliss you'd…"

"Hermione."

She stopped her rant to give him another glare. _"What?"_

"Before continuing, I suggest you actually _read _the thing."

With a suspicious glance, she flipped open the card.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_Since on Thursday morning we will be on a train to Paris to celebrate our anniversary with a dinner at_ Le Balai Noir,_ I thought I would get a head start on the celebration._

_Yours, Severus._

.-.-.

Her mouth formed a soundless "Oh!" as she pulled out the train ticket that had been tucked inside the card.

She loved train journeys. And Paris. And French food.

"I thought you might appreciate a chance to get packed," he said, dignified, with just the right touch of aggrievedness and hurt.

"Oh Severus…" She dropped the card suddenly and flung herself in his arms. "You're so wonderful, and I've been such a… Thank you so much… This is… I don't know what to say!"

He smirked widely as he held her close to himself.

This would be a most excellent day.

* * *

Non-beta'ed. Written for the "Wrong Day's Journey Into Right" challenge on grangersnape100. Just for fun, here is a slight alteration of the last drabble which puts a little bit of a different spin on things, inspired by Miamadwyn:

... "Oh Severus…" She dropped the card and flung herself in his arms. "You're so wonderful, and I've been such a… Thank you so much… I don't know what to say!"

He smirked as he held her tightly.

This would be a most excellent day.

Thank heavens for wandless magic.


	7. Literary Lives

This ws an entry for the GrangerSnape100 "Muggle Devices" drabble challenge. 100 words according to MS word.

-o-o-o-

"Your eyes are like Bowtruckle pellets, your lips like elongated tomatoes..."

"Severus, your similes suck," Hermione said saucily.

"Your alliteration's not much better," he grumbled.

_Since Hermione and I, living out alternate realities in fanfiction stories, discovered we were meant to be together, there has been much happiness, but also a rather perplexing... _

"Severus, you _know_ how I hate it when you hog the POV and turn exposition fairy!" Hermione interrupted him.

He sighed. "Very well, my treasure, crown of my life, ground in which I'm rooted. I love you." Metaphors were her favorite.

Hermione kissed him.

All was well.


	8. Prison

Prison

He'd spent the last two decades locked in a black dungeon, his life defined by its cold stone walls. Restlessly, he'd paced the floor – endless days and comfortless nights. He had been jailor and prisoner, convinced that what he saw of life, of love, of happiness – brief glimpses through barred windows – was only for those who deserved it, for those who did not have dungeon blackness inside of them.

He looked gratefully at the sleeping woman curled up next to him, early morning sun dappling her bushy hair.

After all those years, he'd tried the door and found it open.

* * *

A/N: This was an entry for the grangersnape100 livejournal community's "Locked in the Dungeons" challenge. 100 words according to MS Word.


	9. Terra Incognita

A/N: This was written for the GrangerSnape100 livejournal community's "9 Circles of Hell" challenge, based on Dante's _Inferno._ The Cerberus feeds on the flesh of the damned in the third circle. 100 words according to MS Word.

* * *

He held his breath as Hermione, exploring his body like _terra incognita_, ran her hand slowly down his leg.

"I remember this," she murmured as her finger reached the ragged, raised scar on his calf. "Fluffy?"

"Yes. Hagrid's blasted pet." He'd merely gone to check on Quirrell's whereabouts and found himself in the third circle of hell.

"We thought you were…"

"…After the Stone. I know."

She'd had it all wrong.

But then, so had he. How could he ever have guessed that the bushy-haired girl he had limped past that day would one day become his gate to heaven?


End file.
